A Message found in a Bottle

Origin Unknown

Hello? Is anyone there? I hope this is getting through...

I am not sure how to explain it, but as I write in my journal in this strange land of dreams, I feel like somehow my notes are finding their way back to the waking world.

I don't know how to describe this; everything here is so strange. Memory feels liquid, almost flowing in waves. I have found that I am compelled to write down anything I want to remember lest the next moment it might fade into an unknown abyss, only to drift back like a summer breeze, whisper, and move on again.

Time also seems to have no meaning here. Events don't seem to follow any order, as if everything is happening in one moment, all at once.

The world itself is fluid. A wall could stand before me one moment, then become an open field of grass the next. It seems that my state of mind, or perhaps something deeper, my emotional state seems to control this to some extent.

This fluid reality therefore seems to offer two methods of "travel." One is like free travel, where I let the world sweep me wherever it seems to want to take me. The other is slightly more controlled. Since this world is in some way influenced by my thoughts and emotions, I can use them to guide where I go.

I use the word "travel" loosely. It's not really travel, since space also does not seem to behave like normal space. I stay in the same "place" all the time while the world morphs around me.

I have also noticed that sometimes I don't seem to be "me." Even identity is fluid here. There have been times that I am female, for example. Other times, I seem to be "nothing' and only an observer of events unfolding in this world.

Since time has no meaning here, I have decided not to include dates in my entries. it seems meaningless and only serve to confuse things. The order of events doesn't really matter.

However, for the sake of indexing field notes, I have adopted a numbering system. This is not to be confused with an order of events. As noted the sequence of recorded events doesn't matter here. Again, it's as though everything is happening in a single moment.

Another observation worth noting: this god-like voice. Occasionally this narrator presents simple, cryptic statements of 'fact'...but who is this voice? It feels like it may be part of myself trying to reach out, though I'm still unsure what to make of it.

I don't know if I will ever leave here. I am not sure how yet. But while I am here I intend to explore as much of this world as possible. The possibilities seem endless, so much so that it feels difficult to know where to start.

If my feeling is correct and these notes are making it back to the waking world, I wonder what I can do with that...

I have decided to name this project; Project Myst. It feels....fitting given the circumstance I find myself in.